ame furashi
by Koufukuron
Summary: For parched lands, rain is a blessing. Yet, water does not necessarily cleanse – for some, it only serves to dirty them further. Noncon ByakuRen.


**TITLE: **ame furashi (Rain Summoner)  
**CHAPTERS: **1  
**WORD COUNT:** 2,467 words  
**PAIRING:** ByakuyaxRenji, non-con  
**SUMMARY: **For parched lands, rain is a blessing. Yet, water does not necessarily cleanse – for some, it only serves to dirty them further.  
**RATING: **M. And a warning for rape.  
**DISCLAIMER: **Kubo Tite owns BLEACH – and the animators finally brought out Sodeno Shirayuki in the opening! Cool, though still a bit too early for that, don't you think?

* * *

"_Even though you stroke my cheek as though you wanted to stab it / because you lick my fingers as though you were biting them" – Cocco, "ame furashi"_

* * *

Footsteps sounded about Renji, even as he lay, bloodied and bruised, on the floor of his quarters, breathing ragged, clothing haggard, he too tired to bother to even look up at the source of the soft sounds of grass sandals stepping lightly on wooden flooring. 

Byakuya sighed, straightened his robes and wordlessly left the room, the only sound resounding about the four walls being that of Renji's shallow, uneven breathing, as he remained motionless on the floor – but eventually, he gained enough strength to push himself up and prop himself against the wall, where he leaned, eyes shut, breathing gradually growing steady. He opened his eyes, wincing at the sudden pain that shot through his body, and slowly turned his head to look out of the windows.

It had started raining during when Byakuya had been in his quarters, and now the raindrops rang out loud as they fell to the ground, the occasional rumble of thunder sounding off in the faraway distance.

Renji had always abhorred and dreaded the rain. It had been on a rainy evening that he confronted Rukia and Kurosaki Ichigo in Karakura, eventually wounding the boy mortally, the look of pure fright and hurt in Rukia's eyes haunting his memory. It was always, on rainy days, that his captain would appear at his door, seeking him.

And whenever Byakuya was around, he hated the rain the most – because the former made it rain in his heart.

He, the wild mongrel born of the blue sky and to run under azure skies, disliked the forlorn pallor the grey rain cast over him every time the drops fell, hated the leash chain spun of raindrops that wound around his neck over and over, the other free end firmly grasped in a gloved hand that held him down all too tightly.

But he needed the rain, if only to moisten him so that he could give, whenever it was demanded of him. If only that he could feel wanted, needed, desired by a pair of arms and a warm body, never mind the fact that it was hardly a mutual relationship he was involved in.

The first time he was raped by Byakuya had been on a cold, wet day, the whipping winds howling against the windows of the Sixth Division headquarters. Renji had entered Byakuya's office to deliver a stack of forms that Yamamoto-soutaichou had requested completed and signed by that evening, when he saw his captain gazing straight at him, with a cold look in his eyes that sent shivers down the redhead's spine. Still, he steeled himself and, slowly pacing over to the noble's desk, placed the stack of forms down on the rosewood table, where Byakuya's gloved hands lay.

"Um, taichou, excuse me, but Yamamoto-soutaichou wants these forms done 'n delivered to him by, uh, this evening, sir. Now if you'll excuse me…"

He was about to turn and leave when Byakuya grabbed the wrist that had previously held the pile of papers.

"Um, yes taichou?"

"Renji." Byakuya's voice was as emotionless as the rest of his face – and yet, the chilly glint had not left his eyes once, which caused Renji to shrink inwards. Surely, there had to be something wrong with the whole situation.

"Y-yes taichou?"

"I trust that you are aware that as a vice-captain, you are my subordinate and under my command, and that you are required to carry out those commands even if you disagree with them. Am I right, Renji?"

"Yes s-sir." Renji stuttered, the day he and Byakuya had to go down to Karakura to forcefully drag Rukia back to Soul Society still fresh in his mind, despite it having happened more than a few months ago. "What about it, taichou?"

"Then I believe that you should not give me any problems with the order that I am about to give you." Byakuya stepped from beyond his desk and next to Renji, whispering into his ear, "I want you to please me, Renji."

It was as if the world had frozen for one second as Renji was too stunned to respond to his captain's words, before their intended meaning hit home and he stumbled backwards, tripping over his own grass sandals in the process and falling heavily to the floor. "Y-you… you what, taichou?"

Byakuya now towered over Renji, the cold glint in his eyes now replaced by a look of cruelty. "Did you not hear me, Renji? I said", he bent down, grabbing Renji by the collar of his hakama and hauling him up, "that I want you to pleasure me, Abarai-fukutaichou. Is that too hard for you to understand?"

"What if I don't want to?" Renji's voice came out as a whisper, now completely aware of what Byakuya meant – and he would have fought back, would have drawn Zabimaru and challenged Byakuya, if he had not been bearing the many injuries that Aizen had left him with when he betrayed Soul Society along with his two flunkies Ichimaru and Tousen, rendering him weak and physically unready to fight.

Byakuya's hand abruptly shifted down from where it had been, at the collar, to around Renji's neck, his palm pressing down against the redhead's throat and causing him to choke, while his fingers roughly grabbed Renji's chin and forced him to look up and into his eyes, even as the latter flailed frantically, arms clawing away at the pale arm to no avail. "Like I said before, Renji, you have no choice. Either you co-operate with me, or", and his voice dropped to a predatory whisper, "I take it from you by force." And with that he shoved Renji backwards, the red-maned's larger build crashing into the wall behind the desk, where he slumped forward, gasping for breath.

A quiet rush of wind sounded from the other end of the room and Renji's mind barely registered the quick movements of Byakuya's flash step before his commanding officer was in front of him. Never before had Renji feared so much for his life than that very moment, with him cornered and trapped, pressed against the wall and with Byakuya staring right down at him with his poker face. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to make a dash for the door, only to be blown backwards by a sudden surge of reiatsu from Byakuya, causing him to crash face-first into the wall and remain pinned there by its sheer force.

The Kuchiki heir strode forward with calm, measured steps and roughly yanked Renji's face, now streaked with blood flowing from the gash that his earlier fall had caused, turning it so that they were face to face. "Renji, I believe my earlier words were for you to co-operate with me. Now look at yourself, the mess that you are in." And even as he spoke, he pointed a hand towards his vice-captain and chanted, "Binding Arts One, Sai.", restraining Renji and rendering him immobile.

Renji, numb and only semiconscious from the knock earlier, came to his senses when he heard the sounds of his hakama being ripped, exposing his posterior, which now felt cold and naked, and the dull sound of the captain's heavy white robe falling to the ground even as Byakuya undressed. He opened his mouth to let out a scream, only to receive a mouthful of cloth, as his captain stuffed part of his shredded hakama in.

Eyes wide with fear, he turned his head around, only to have the sight of a bare Byakuya, positioning himself to enter, greet him. A million thoughts raced through Renji's mind, yet all he could muster was a muffled scream from behind his gag and a frantic shaking of his head from side to side – all he could do to beg Byakuya not to rape him.

"Hmm? Was that something you said, Renji?" The Sixth Division captain paused to look up, placid eyes glancing at the redhead. "Would you care to repeat it again, that I may hear it?"

Renji screamed again, doubling his efforts to shake himself free of his bonds – and yet, all that came out was a muffled sound, even as Byakuya shook his head slightly and, with a cruel smile, forced his way into Renji, shattering the last of his defences as Byakuya's erect member probed and pushed, before penetrating fully, deeply, a grunt issuing from Byakuya's throat.

An inhumane cry tore from Renji's Adam's apple over and over as he redoubled his futile struggling, even as the tears flowed freely down his face as Byakuya drew in and out, over and over, defiling him again and again. Byakuya, in response, roughly grabbed Renji's wrists with his hands and pinned them to the wall, steadying the both of them even as he exhaled and moaned breathily, his actions gaining momentum as Renji's screams grew more frantic and hoarser.

The tightness of Renji's entrance fitted itself tightly about Byakuya's arousal, only serving to bring him to climax faster, and when the fair-skinned man paused, tensed and shot his hot load into the depths of Renji's body, Renji's seed spurted out from his own arousal, having stiffened and hardened while he was unaware, splattering onto the wall and his abdominals, leaving a messy trail in its wake.

And after that, Byakuya had merely loosened Renji's bonds and left his quarters, leaving behind a shivering, broken Renji, bloodied and bruised, who was too shocked to even sob, to even cry for himself, the tears just silently flowing down his cheeks.

And from that day on, Byakuya sought release in Renji, sometimes up to twice, even thrice a day. It had been Byakuya who had gotten the elaborate maze of tattoos pricked all over Renji, running down his back and flaring out to cover its entirety, stretching upwards across his neck and arching into his eyebrows, just to cover up the many angry warts and bruises that he left behind after his needs had been satisfied, the purplish-black colour of abuse easily noticed despite Renji's tanned skin, and bound to raise more than a few eyebrows had people seen them.

And every time he was thrust into, sweaty, pale velvet pressed against tanned leather, strong arms bound together by leather bonds at the wrists and to hooks in the wall, muscled legs spread wide and splayed in all directions, strands of ebony laying atop vivid crimson, Renji could only shut his eyes tight and wince, biting into his lower lip so sharply it drew blood, even as an impassionate Byakuya forcefully slammed into him, drew out roughly and then into him, over and over, struggling to keep crystalline rivulets from flowing out and down his cheeks.

But in his heart, he was crying, weeping, howling, even as the pouring rain pounded into him, soaking through torn robes, each drop of water akin to a small razor slashing his skin while he writhed and threw his head from side to side, the searing pain blossoming within him and wracking his body in spasms.

And it began to rain blood instead, the coppery liquid dripping out of the redhead's wounds and becoming one inseparable entity with the tears of heaven, even as Renji lay broken on the ground, panting heavily, the tears now flowing freely from his eyes. For no matter how he kneeled, pleaded and begged his captain to stop, Byakuya merely turned a deaf ear to his pleas. For no matter how he tried and tried to defend himself, to protect himself, he always lost in the end.

And he was ashamed, thinking of it – the pain that Byakuya caused, the train of marks that Byakuya left, whenever he touched Renji roughly. Because it aroused him and made him want, desperately, to feel the touch of bare skin against bare skin, the warm moistness of breath against his neck, the ripples of pleasure intermingled with pain, such that he could not differentiate one from the other, as they were.

For Byakuya had educated him on one stormy night in the Kuchiki residence as the winds howled through the empty, dark corridors, taught him that both were equal, even as one strong hand grasped Renji's neck tightly, choking him as the tears flowed, while the other wrapped itself around the redhead's arousal and squeezed it firmly, causing Renji to gasp and thrust his hips upwards and into the other's hand against his will, his mental functions having ceased quite a while ago.

And as the memory of the pain travelled through him, he felt his belly tighten, the strain of throbbing, hardening flesh against the material of his hakama, its tip growing increasingly wet even as he, with unsteady, shaking fingers, undid his obi and drew his member out, still sticky with his semen and sweat from just moments ago.

Through the confusion that clouded his mind, only one thought cut clear across to Renji – that he wanted to give, wanted to release. And his right hand began to pump up and down, first with unsure, smaller strokes, then faster and harder, even as a calloused thumb rubbed its way around a swollen, red head now dripping wet with clear fluid, earning a moan from the redhead.

The other hand, however, reached over and pressed down hard on a freshly-healed cut wound that Byakuya had inflicted not two days ago. The paper-thin tissue tore, causing blood to bead at its surface – and the pain spread through Renji, causing his right hand to move even more quickly, sweat forming on his brow. Bending his head down, the redhead slowly and deliberately licked away the blood, relishing in the coppery taste that now lay on his tongue, even as the thought that that was how he tasted to Byakuya flitted across his mind.

As his hand became a blur, his breathing became faster, coming in short gasps – and as he felt his thigh muscles tighten, Renji gave one last stroke, and the world around him exploded in brilliant sparks of white, his release forceful, splattering across his chest and onto his face, and a distant corner of his mind registered him having screamed out Byakuya's name a split second just before he came.

And as he lay there trembling, arms wrapped around himself at the sudden chill that made contact with his bare skin, the tears began rolling down Renji's cheeks again, even as he gasped, not knowing if it was out of the need for air or out of shame at what he had just done.

For he was now broken, utterly and completely – a hapless slave to pain, to pleasure, to Byakuya, completely within their grasp.

And beyond the windows, the graying skies shed their tears even as he curled up, the rivulets of salty water still flowing, joining him in mourning, in grief, in despair.


End file.
